When I moved to Tanzania, I prayed time and time again for a desire to cook. Whether it was traditional American food or recipes from a new land, I knew I would need this to survive without the convenience of Chick-fil-A or a microwave.

I believe my God continuously answers this prayer as I experiment in the kitchen and enjoy it. I’m more of a go-with-the-flow cook, meaning I would rather throw random ingredients in a pan than look at a recipe. I can cook the same thing multiple times, and it will never turn out the same way, and honestly, I think that’s part of the fun!

Sometimes, things don’t go according to plan. The bread catches fire, the cake doesn’t rise, the soup boils over, or the food-to-seasoning ratio is way off. (I’m embarrassed to say all these have happened to me in the last few months.) The meal is usually unsalvageable when this happens, but that isn’t always the case. Sometimes, things appear like they aren’t going according to plan, but I need to trust the process.

Take, for example, this week:

After visiting my local farmers’ market, I came home with two beautiful eggplants. This purchase was strictly based on color alone, as I had no idea what to do with this unusual vegetable. After a quick Google search, I decided to attempt a Middle Eastern recipe called Baba Ghanoush. The picture looked exactly like hummus, which I love. So, I thought to myself, what could possibly go wrong?

I followed the directions to a T, not something I usually do when cooking.

Step One: roast the eggplant. Once it is golden brown in color and soft to the touch, remove the skins and put the eggplant in a mesh strainer to remove any extra liquids.

That seemed simple enough. Once the eggplant filled my kitchen with the earthy aroma of roasted vegetables, I removed it from the oven and began peeling off the skin. The recipe failed to mention that the “golden brown” color may be more greyish, greenish brown. I thought I must have bought rotten eggplants.

Nothing about this sticky, ugly mess looked appetizing to me. I considered throwing it out and just having a peanut butter sandwich for dinner. But it wasn’t the final product, and there were many more steps until the Baba Ghanoush would be complete.

Instead of giving up, I decided to trust the process. This adventure had two possible endings:

I would waste the next 30 minutes of my life cooking a rotten mess, OR
I would follow the remaining steps and end up with a delicious treat!

I followed the remaining directions, unsure of the outcome. Luckily, the second option was the winner, and if you have never tried Baba Ghanoush and you like hummus, it’s delicious!

Through cooking, God has taught me so much about what it looks like to grow as I walk with him into the unknown. As much as we may want to, it is impossible to skip to the end without going through all the steps.

There are times when life feels like a sticky, ugly mess. Amid growing pains and uncontrollable circumstances, I often think nothing beautiful could come from a season like this. In those moments, God reminds me that what feels uncomfortable is just a tiny part of the story in which he is working together for his good and glory.

Sometimes, life may feel like it’s on fire, has too much or not enough seasoning, or feels like it’s just not coming together. But through it all – my job? I want to trust the process and remember that my God is in control.

Almost exactly one year ago (a little more than now), I decided to move to Tanzania.

I can remember the anticipation and anxiety, my thoughts moving at the speed of light as I thought through this decision. I recently came across a journal entry from that season where I wrote:

“Stuck.
Cemented in place.
In a never-ending whirlpool.
The whipping winds of a cyclone, the tormenting waves of a tsunami.
but suddenly, without warning – deafening silence in the eye of a hurricane.
Momentary relief in a sea of chaos.
But it is not peaceful; it is stagnant and stale.
Imitation at best.
Because while it may seam calm in the eye, you can only ignore the raging seas for so long.
You can only remain blind to the bending trees and roaring winds if your eyes are shut.
One blink, one breath, sends you right back to reality.
To the tormenting waves, never-ending cycle of fear and doubt as you stand.
Cemented in place.
Stuck.”

I tried making the most significant life decision in my own strength. But like yesterday, I also remember the instantaneous peace I felt when I finally let go of control and listened to God’s calling.

Sitting on Kome Island, I had no agenda, only to visit and observe as the school year started. When the kids and teachers returned home each afternoon, I had so much time to sit in the silence of the peaceful island and pray through all the Lord was laying on my heart. One afternoon, I was reading my Bible, and a verse stood out like never before.

“Just as each one has received a gift, use it to serve others, as good stewards of the varied grace of God. ¹¹ If anyone speaks, let it be as one who speaks God’s words; if anyone serves, let it be from the strength God provides, so that God may be glorified through Jesus Christ in everything. To him be the glory and the power forever and ever. Amen.”
1 Peter 4:10-11

As I read this passage repeatedly, I thought specifically about serving in the strength God provides. Do I rely on Him, or am I trying to do everything and make every decision in my strength? God opened my eyes to how I allowed my shortfalls and insecurities to dictate the paths I considered and how I prayed about my future.

I remember pausing at that moment and telling God, “If this is what you want for me, then take away every fear.” I didn’t have the time to finish typing and hit send before he gave me his reply.

The sudden, overwhelming, all-consuming peace was all the confirmation I needed. God wanted me in Tanzania. When? For how long? For what purpose? All those answers would come later. At that moment, I knew His plans were more significant than mine.

My job now? Trust.

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not rely on your own understanding; think about Him in all your ways, and He will guide you on the right paths.”
Proverbs 4:5-6

Trust has never come easy for me. I’m sure many people could say the same. My default is to doubt. To ask questions and look for reasons to believe trust is merited. Whether I wanted to admit it or not, for much of my life, I lived by the phrase, “Trust is earned, not given.” I still do from time to time.

But God asks us to do just the opposite of what comes naturally.

Wait.
Listen.
Trust.
Follow.

This year, I hope to continue learning as I seek to follow the leader, for it is in following that we find true freedom.

Day Six

I awoke suddenly to wind chimes, beeps, and music as a chorus of alarms went off around me. The sharp pains of a splitting headache amplified each sound. It was 11:00 p.m., and now time to prepare for our summit attempt. Putting on each layer to protect my body from the icy winds was like dawning a suit of armor. The frigid air and the thick snow pants caused my body to feel stiff and immovable.

Dehydrated and running on little sleep, I couldn’t stomach any food served at our midnight breakfast. After a few forced sips of hot tea, I was ready to begin shedding layers. As the team ate, we sat in total silence. As we waited, I began praying over and over:

“God, whatever happens, may you be glorified.”

Finally, it was time. We grabbed our supplies and followed the leader up the mountain in a single file line. We hiked in the black of night in total silence, our headlamps illuminating the feet in front of us and nothing more. Within the first few minutes, my lungs were screaming for oxygen. Each icy breath felt like a knife as it shocked my system.

After maybe 20 minutes, I thought listening to worship music would help get my mind off my headache and lungs. (Side note – A week before the climb, I left my AirPods on Kome Island, so if I listened to music, everyone listened.) My phone was deep in the abyss of layered clothing, so I had to rely on my memory.

Unfortunately, the jukebox in my brain seemed to be malfunctioning this morning, so one single line of a Rich Mullins song played on repeat for the next hour:

My God has a great sense of humor. As this verse repeatedly played in my head, I thought about how this song depicted what I was doing then. I sought after Jesus early in the morning as I took step after step up a mountain. Each step was hard but worth it. In the same way, steps of faith are not always easy, but they are always worth it.

Lesson #7 – Pursuing Christ is worth everything.

“Seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.” Matthew 6:33

As we continued climbing, the pain worsened, the breaths became shorter and faster, and the nausea began to set in. I had to stop frequently to catch my breath and occasionally to dry-heave behind rocks as I had nothing in my stomach.

Each time I stopped, I felt a pang of guilt for slowing down my teammates. What I was unaware of in the moment was that my team surrounded me and prayed over me each time I stopped. When the enemy wanted me to feel alone, I was, in reality, surrounded by warriors pleading for my strength and healing.

After two hours of walking, stopping, walking, and stopping, my body had had enough. I sat on the ground in the middle of the path, feeling defeated. As I began to pray, an overwhelming feeling of peace overcame this wisp of defeat. I turned to Yusuph as tears flooded my eyes and said, “I think you know what I am about to say.” He nodded.

“I’ve gone as far as I am supposed to go.” These words tasted like honey and felt like a sweet release. The rest of the team immediately tried to rebuttal with words of encouragement, to which I said, “I am at complete peace with this decision. I’ve gone farther than I ever thought I would go.”

Yusuph looked me in the eyes and said, “Knowing your limits is a strength far greater than any weakness.”

Before leaving the team, John, our lead guide, congratulated me and said, “Emma, you have climbed over 5,000 meters.” Looking at my watch, it had clocked around 17,000 ft. elevation, nearly 6,000 ft higher than I had ever been previously. I hugged each team member and promised to pray for them as they climbed to the top of the mountain, and that is precisely what I did.

Seventeen minutes later, I was back at camp. One of our guides practically ran me down the mountain as my boots slid and skied over the chalky, sand-like ground. I crawled into my tent and tried my best to get warm. It was six degrees Fahrenheit, and the warm water bottle I used to heat my sleeping bag was now a block of ice. As I shivered, I prayed and anticipated the return of my teammates. I couldn’t wait to celebrate their success.

As the sun rose above the peak, I sat on a rock near the edge of camp and waited. Soon, my friends began returning to camp, two or three at a time. What joy it brought me to hear their stories of trials and triumphs as each one made it to the top.

Then, like gravity, what went up must go back down. It took us a day and a half to reach the mountain base. Climbing down felt harder than climbing up as we used and strained different muscles and eagerly anticipated the warm showers and soft beds waiting for us back at the hotel.

When asked about my experience on the mountain, I’ve told many people this was by far the hardest thing I have ever done. Would I do it again? Only time will tell – but I am grateful for every memory, every lesson, and the continued growth I have experienced since.

Lesson #8 – Sometimes, we go through hard things to prepare us for something greater.

“He comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any kind of affliction, through the comfort we ourselves receive from God. For just as the sufferings of Christ overflow to us, so also through Christ our comfort overflows.” 2 Corinthians 1:4-5

When I think about the mountain, I don’t think about the pain and hardships (although they were at the forefront of my mind for the first few weeks. My body has never been more sore!), I think about the lessons I learned. I see how God used the mountain to prepare me for my most incredible adventure yet – moving to Tanzania. In every situation, I am learning to rely on Him, seek help from others, and leave every concern at the foot of the cross. I don’t do this perfectly, but I will continue learning.

The adventure is only getting started! I hope you’ll come along for the ride.

Day five

We awoke early the next morning to begin our final day of climbing before the summit attempt. As I choked down breakfast and guzzled as much water as my stomach could handle, I dreaded putting on my hiking boots. By this point, my feet were swollen to twice their standard size, and I had completely lost feeling in 3 of my toes. I forced my feet into my boots, and my whole body ached as we began our ascent.

As we inched forward, one step at a time, I began repeating over and over in my mind, “The Lord is my refuge and strength. My ever-present help in times of trouble. Therefore, I will not fear…” Psalm 46:1-2a. Without even realizing it, my internal mantra became external at some point. Tara was hiking behind me and asked, “What verse are you repeating?” then, “Why don’t you finish the verse?” The rest of the verse speaks of mountains crumbling into the sea, probably not the encouragement needed for mountain climbing. However, it would make our descent quicker!

As we hiked higher and higher over dusty sand and scattered rock, I began setting small, attainable goals for myself. I would look ahead, pick a landmark, and then pray, sing, count steps — do whatever was necessary to motivate me — until I reached my goal. The higher we climbed, the shorter the distance became between each landmark. The path steepened, and as we approached the final mile to camp, we began seeing weary travelers descending the mountain. This is a kind, too-pretty description of what we came to describe as mountain zombies – hikers being carried, dragged, and rolled back down the mountain after their summit attempt. Many looked to be near death as they were thrown over the shoulder of their guide like a porter hauling tents. I can’t say this made anyone on our team eager to continue the climb.

We continued passing mountain zombies, and my distance between goals continued to decrease. We were in the last half hour, but I wasn’t sure if my wobbly legs and swollen feet could make it. At this point, I felt the effects of the altitude as my lungs gasped for air and my muscles shook from fatigue.

Lesson #6 – we are stronger in community.

“And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching.” Hebrews 10:24-25

Two dear teammates, Wade and Tara, took the same painfully slow pace I set and encouraged me along the way.

“Emma, take ten more steps, and then you can rest.”

“That’s it, now let’s do ten more!”

“Think you can do 15 this time? Then we can pause to catch our breath.”

This went on for at least half an hour, counting my every step, pausing with me when needed, and speaking encouragement when I had no words. Reminding me of the goals ahead and how much we had achieved. Before I knew it, we had arrived. A hot lunch waited for us, and a glorious afternoon nap.

We would eat dinner, sleep for a few hours, and soon begin the final climb.

To Be Continued…

Day 4

“Emma…Emma…Are you awake? … Emma?”

The voice of Juma, our porter, woke me each morning. On the morning of day 4, I had no intention of getting out of my sleeping bag. While I knew we had an early start, I was done.

When I finally opened my eyes, I realized Juma had crawled inside my tent. 😂 “Emma… Emma… I’m going to help you pack up your bag. Please get up!” I wasn’t sure if that was enough to get me up, but Juma was determined, and I eventually joined the team at breakfast. Someone asked the group, “How is everyone doing this morning?” There were various answers: 6…7…8…9…great sleep and a 10! Then, all eyes were on me, and I began to cry again.

“I have nothing today. Emotionally, physically, mentally… I’m a zero.”

I couldn’t pinpoint what was bothering me, but I knew something other than exhaustion from the previous day’s hike was the culprit for my emotions. As we began to walk, it dawned on me.

Today was the Barranco Wall.

I had dreaded the Barranco Wall for months. When I first agreed to go on this climb, I had done some research (clearly not enough. Don’t trust YouTube Documentaries!), and the Barranco Wall seemed to be the most technical day as we scaled up and over a 400-foot rock wall. The previous fears coupled with my newfound fear of heights left me paralyzed. My tears could have filled the ravine as I cried the entire walk to the wall.

We reached the base, and with John on one side, Yusuph on the other, and Kayla right in front of me, they said, “You’ve got this. We won’t let you fall.”

At that moment, I could hear my dad’s mantra whenever we were afraid or angry, “Emma, who are you thinking about right now?” That phrase caused much frustration growing up because I usually was thinking of myself. In that moment, God reminded me to dwell on him. I told those around me to remind me to keep my eyes on the rocks rather than the cliffs and edges we climbed so dangerously close to.

Lesson #4 – Always keep your eyes up.

“Keeping our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of God. For consider him who endured such suffering amongst sinners against himself, so that we won’t grow weary or lose hope.” Hebrews 12:2-3

We reached the top of the wall, surprisingly, one of my favorite parts of the climb. My watch clocked 623 feet of elevation gain. After sitting for a well-deserved snack break, John asked me, “Emma, are you ready to continue?” To no one’s surprise, I asked for two more minutes and then got ready. We had to cross a ridge and descend into a ravine before climbing back to the top of a second hill. While this sounded easy enough, the journey always took longer than expected. As John and I walked, I didn’t even realize we had left the rest of the team behind. We hiked and talked for about 20 minutes before Yusuph caught up with us. After catching us, Yusuph exclaimed, “I can’t believe you left without me!”

John, Yusuph and I hiked for over 3 hours, only stopping once for a break before the final hill. As we walked, we talked about everything God was teaching each one of us on this journey. I explained the fear I felt in the morning and how God was renewing me and filling me as I gave my worries to him with each forward step. John quietly hiked in the lead, leaving just enough distance that I was unaware he was listening as I spoke. When I finished sharing, he said, “Emma, God is using your journey to teach me something right now. I didn’t know if you had it in you this morning, but God is proving me wrong as I see him push you on. Your journey is strengthening my faith.” 

Lesson #5 – We never know when someone is watching. The way we walk matters.

“I, therefore, a prisoner for the Lord, urge you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called…” Ephesians 4:1

I was the first to camp that day. The rest of the team arrived 45 minutes later. We ate dinner, laughed together, and shared stories from our day. At this camp, the clouds cleared away after dinner, and we had the most beautiful view of the city 14,000 feet below.

To Be Continued…

Day 3 took on a whole new set of challenges. Our team separated into two groups- those who are fast and those who are not. I felt good in the morning. The walk was strenuous, but I knew I could make it to lunch.

As we walked, I asked our lead guide, John, if he would share his testimony. This led to many theological conversations and opportunities to learn from each other. He has guided people up the mountain for more than two decades, and what a blessing he was to me and our entire team. I’ve never met someone who more perfectly embodies Isaiah 52:7 – “How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him who brings good news, who publishes peace, who brings good news of happiness, who publishes salvation, who says to Zion, “Your God reigns.”

Later in the hike, John would tell us that he had guided more teams up the mountain than he could count, but never in his 20 years of climbing had he ever led a group that lived out their faith so authentically. I think we all felt the same about him, and it was so evident that God had anointed this meeting. What a joy it was to learn from each other as we made this climb an act of worship to our God.

Our walk to lunch at Lava Tower (standing at 15,000 ft.), the highest we had been so far, took longer than expected, and our feet dragged. I remember loudly proclaiming at one point, “I’ve taken 843 steps since I last wanted to quit!” Counting steps took my mind off my pain and helped me remember I was continually moving forward. We made it to lunch and enjoyed a nice break without knowing what would lie ahead.

After eating, we were told, “We will go downhill for a bit.” They failed to mention that downhill was at least a 200 ft rock wall we had to descend, then climb over rocks and ravines for at least 2 hours before arriving at camp. Like everything, the descent took far longer than anticipated. I learned I fear heights – cliffs, ledges, and drop-offs with no gates or warning signs.

John could sense my fear and firmly took my arm, saying, “I’ve got you. You have nothing to fear.” The sun rapidly set behind us as we slowly inched closer to camp. Soon, we were hiking with only the light of the moon. I have awful night blindness, so I was not enjoying this last hour of the hike.

Lesson #2 – sometimes you can’t see where you are going, but you must trust the hand that guides you.

“Your word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path.” Psalm 119:105

A thought that kept crossing my mind as we meandered in darkness, “I just want to hug my family.” I had no family on this trip, but Yusuph is basically my brother. We finally get to camp, and the rest of the team is already eating dinner. Before I made it inside the tent, Yusuph ran to greet us and gave me the biggest hug. I immediately began sobbing, releasing the pent-up tears ever-present since the descent down the rock wall. That hug and another bowl of vegetable soup were what my heart needed that night. It was a subtle reminder from God:

Lesson #3– He promises to comfort us. We may not be removed from the pain, but our Savior meets us in the fire.

“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” Matthew 11:28-30

We hiked for 12 hours that day.

To Be Continued…

Day 2 on Kilimanjaro presented challenges I was not mentally or physically prepared for. As the trees began to dwarf in size, the rainforest faded into the distance like stars in the early morning sky. We were entering the moorlands. The sun became an unwanted companion, blistering the skin with each passing minute. Steep hills and large rocks to climb over came between me and my next sleep. After about a third of the hike, I had nothing left. I was physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually depleted. I sat on a rock and cried for what felt like an eternity. I began praying, well, more complaining to God. What had I gotten myself into? I thought I was here for a purpose, but why not tell me?

At that moment, I heard a subtle whisper, so clear and distinct, specifically for me.

“Emma, I’m going to break you.”

He let me sit in that moment and wrestle with the idea of more pain before I heard again,

“I’m going to break your will, but I promise to renew your spirit.”

As we continued to walk, and as I dwelled on these words, my daypack was almost forcibly removed from my back. I was tired, but I didn’t want to ask for help. My guide saw that and insisted on helping me.

Lesson #1 – learn to receive support from others. As the day continued, I was physically depleted but slowly, gently, almost unnoticeably, spiritually filled.

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for the Kingdom of God is yours.” Matthew 5:3

This verse took on a new meaning as I continued dragging my feet along the path. I had nothing, but Jesus continuously reminded me that he is my everything.

Finally, after climbing 3 or 4 mini mountains, we had our first view of camp. Seeing the little orange and green tents speckle the horizon was such a relief, and it meant we had finally made it to a well-deserved break and bowl of vegetable soup! There was nothing extraordinary about the soup we were served at dinner, but I found myself craving it throughout the day. Each night it was a different soup – carrot, potato, onion, leek, celery – and each night it tasted the same. It became a reward for every new goal I set – if I make it to camp, I get soup!

Unfortunately, I tasted the soup twice this day. A mixture of overexertion from a challenging climb and possibly a little bit of corn caused my stomach to revolt in the night. I woke up around midnight and barely made it out of my tent before “tossing my cookies,” to put it politely. That night, I learned how grateful I am for friends who will join you in your mess, hold your hair, and remind you of truths found in scripture. My friend Kayla did just that. She sat with me and played worship music on her phone until I was calm enough to go back to sleep. While I would not want to relive this moment, I’m thankful God uses any situation to remind me of his nearness and the strength of community.

I was going to need that reminder in the days to come.

To Be Continued…

This is a story of failure, a story of brokenness, and a story of God’s grace.

This is the story of a mountain.

July 2023, I and eight friends took seven days to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro in eastern Tanzania. On day one of the hike, I was more than ready to give up. We arrived at Machame Gate around nine in the morning. Thick fog and light rain created an ominous atmosphere as we anticipated our ascent. Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell serenaded us with Ain’t No Mountain High Enough as we sat in the welcome area, eating a box breakfast and waiting to complete our registration forms. We waited for nearly three hours. With each passing minute, the butterflies in my stomach grew more assertive. We hadn’t even started, and I was already asking myself, “What in the world have I gotten myself into?”

At the entrance gate, we filed single file through a security checkpoint. Two metal detectors and a baggage check stood between us and the mountain. Our team of nine Americans gathered with the four guides, three cooks, and countless porters for a brief orientation. After scanning passports, signing guestbooks, and hearing the mountain rules, we began our climb.

The first hour consisted of cement paths, Bluetooth speakers blaring every song ever written about a mountain, and so much rain. The water falling from the sky was more of a sputtering than a downpour, as the low clouds created walls of water we consistently walked through.

The rainforest was filled with divine beauty unlike anything I had seen before, but my eyes were fixated on the shoes before me as I focused on taking each new step uphill. Exhausted and out of breath from this first (8-mile) hike, I didn’t know how to manage six more days like this. One team member was sick, and I thought, this is my out. If they must go back down, I will volunteer as tribute to ensure they get to the bottom safely.

I wished failure on someone else, so I didn’t have to keep doing something hard for myself. Fortunately, that team member woke up fine the next day. While I would like to say this news made me happy, I was angry as it meant I had to continue climbing. This sudden emotion surprised me, as it was the furthest from a righteous anger. I would feel very convicted about this later in the hike.

One day in, and I already felt broken beyond repair. Feeling pushed far beyond my limits, I would soon learn how much further I could go if I made myself willing to listen. This was only the start of a journey that God intended to use to change me and prepare me for all He had in store.

To Be Continued…

When I was a senior in college, I lived in this dirty, dungy shoebox of an apartment. Despite the stains on the carpet and the potential black mold creeping up the walls, I loved all 450 square feet of it. It was the first place that was all mine and genuinely felt like home.

The A/C didn’t always work in the bedroom, so (much to my mother’s chagrin) I often slept with my windows open. Unfortunately, while the fresh air was a welcomed friend, the screen meant to protect me from the outside world usually allowed unwanted guests to creep in. Often members of the Hymenoptera and Diptera families (aka ants and flies), I could not sleep until I knew without any shadow of a doubt that my unwanted foes had perished or were banished from the premises.

From the naked eye, the screen on my window appeared impenetrable. I could never quite figure out where the wide-open entrance was, obviously with a welcome mat and neon OPEN sign inviting every bug in a ten-mile radius to a house party I did not plan. I just knew they came in somewhere through the window.

Sometimes, anxiety creeps in as silently as these bugs. We think our mind is impenetrable, prepared for battle. Then suddenly, without warning, we are left wide open and unprepared for the onslaught of hostility in our minds.  

You aren’t good enough.

Why do you think you can do this?

You are setting yourself up for major failure.

As I sit here and wrestle with these lies, I am reminded of my little apartment. Did I leave the window open again? Fighting unwanted thoughts like this is not a one-time battle. Tonight, I am again reminded I can never let my guard down. I must daily take up my cross and put on the armor my God has provided me.

But most importantly, I must never forget I am not fighting these battles alone. Honestly, I’m not doing much fighting at all. My job is to lay each anxious thought at the feet of Jesus, wholly trusting that He is in control. Easier said than done, but when I try to fight each battle on my own, this is when I leave room for the enemy to make his move.

The truth of the situation? My Jesus has already won. I can take comfort in my living hope, knowing He is bigger and stronger than any lie that tries to take root in my mind.

I am not enough. But He is!

Why do I think I can do this? Because my God equips everyone He calls.

I’m not setting myself up for failure. I’m preparing my heart to worship my God with everything I have.

“Don’t worry about anything, but in everything, through prayer and petition with thanksgiving, present your requests go God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Finally brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable– if there is any moral excellence and if there is anything praiseworthy– dwell on these things. Do what you have learned and received and heard from me, and seen in me, and the God of peace will be with you.”

–Philippians 4:6-9